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Words of (Jomfort 

FORTH EllF^^OTHERJ. 



'THE LITTLE CHILDREN 

THAT 

ARE GONE." 

WORDS OF COMFORT 

FOR 

THEIR MOTHERS. 



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NEW YORK: 

ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 

38 West Twenty-third Street, 



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copyright, 1887, by 
Anson D. F. Randolph & Company. 



Fdward O. Jenkins' Sons, 

PRINTERS. 

20 North William St., New York. 



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A Mother, whose ofily little child has lately 
gone to Heaven., has gathered these thottghts 
together., hoping that they may comfort other 
mothers. 



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THE LITTLE CHILDREN 
THAT ARE GONE." 






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"THE LITTLE CHILDREN THAT 
ARE GONE." 

" Why do they come, these Httle ones 
that enter our homes by the gateway of 
suffering and that linger with us a few 
short months, uttering no words, smil- 
ing in a mysterious silence, yet speaking 
eloquently all the time of the purity 
and sweetness of Heaven? Why must 
they open the tenderest fountains of 
our natures only to leave them so soon 
choked with the bitter tears of loss ? It 
is impossible wholly to answer such 
questions of the tortured heart, but one 
can say, in general, that these little tem- 
porary wanderers from a celestial home 
come and go because of the great love 
of God. It is an inestimable blessing to 

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T/ie Little Children that are Gone!' 

have been the parent of a child that has 
the stamp of Heaven upon its brow, to 
hold it in one's arms, to minister to it, 
to gaze fondly down into the little up- 
turned face, and to rejoice in the unsul- 
lied beauty of its smiles, and then — to 
give it back to God at His call, with the 
thought that in heaven, as upon earth, 
it is still our own child, a member of the 
household still, to be counted always 
as one of the children whom God has 
given us. Such a love chastens and 
sanctifies the hearts of the father and 
mother, carries them out beyond time 
and sense, and gives them a hold upon 
the unseen. As things of great value 
always cost, it is worth all the sorrow to 
have known this holy affection and to 
have this treasure in Heaven." — From the 
Advance. 



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"CHILDREN IN HEAVEN." 

'' A BABE in glory is a babe forever. 
Perfect as spirits, and able to pour forth 
Their glad hearts in the tongues that 

angels use, 
These nurslings, gathered in God's nur- 
sery, 
Forever grow in loveliness and love, — 
Growth is the law of all intelligence, — 
Yet cannot pass the limit which defines 
Their being. They have never fought 

the fight, 
Nor borne the heat and burden of the 

day, 
Nor staggered underneath the weary 
cross. 



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The Little Children that are Gone' 



.... Infancy 
Is one thing, manhood one. And babes, 

though part 
Of the true archetypal house of God 
Built on the heavenly Zion, are not now, 
Nor will ever be massive rocks, rough* 

hewn, 
Or ponderous corner-stones, or fluted 

shafts 
Of columns, or far-shadowing pinnacles ; 
But rather as the delicate lily-work. 
By Hiram wrought for Solomon of old, 
Enwreathed upon the brazen chapiters, 
Or flowers of lilies round the molten sea. 
Innumerable flowers thus bloom and 

blush 
In heaven." .... 

— Rev. E. H. Bickersteth. 



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HER CHILD'S MISSION. 

God had taken away her only little 
one, a child of rare, sweet character. 
The mother grieved that she was not 
spared to lead a noble life, a life of 
doing good. Would she not have re- 
ceived greater rewards in Heaven? She 
asked this question, longing with a 
mother's love that her child should have 
the best in Heaven. 

'' My dear madame," said the man of 
God, " that little child must have ac- 
complished her mission even in her 
short life and lovely death, that even a 
long life might not have done so well. 

" She has opened and softened hearts, 
perhaps more than you are aware of, 



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The Little CJiildren that are Gone!' 

and the influence of her death has spread 
abroad and touched many Hves." The 
mother felt comforted, and prayed that 
she might be brave, and Hve to fulfil her 
own mission, and do it as perfectly as 
her little child had done.— ANONYMOUS. 



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EARLY LOST, EARLY SAVED. 

" Within her downy cradle there lay a 

little child, 
And a group of hovering angels unseen 

upon her smiled ; 
A strife arose among them— a loving, 

holy strife — 
Which should shed the richest blessing 

over the new-born life. 

''One breathed uponher features and the 

babe in beauty grew, 
With a cheek like morning's blushes, and 

an eye of azure hue ; 
Till every one who saw her, was thankful 

for the sight 
Of a face so sweet and radiant with ever 

fresh delight. 

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The Little Children that are Gone^ 



" Another gave her accent and a voice as 
musical 

As a spring bird's joyous carol, or a rip- 
pling streamlet's fall ; 

Till all who heard her laughing, or her 
words of childish grace, 

Loved as much to listen to her, as to 
look upon her face. 

" Another brought from heaven a clear 

and gentle mind, 
And within the lovely casket the precious 

gem enshrined ; 
Till all who knew her wondered that 

God should be so good 
As to bless with such a spirit our desert 

world and rude. 

" Thus did she grow in beauty, in melody, 
and truth ; 
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TJie Little Children that are GoneT 



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The budding of her childhood just 

opening into youth ; 
And to our hearts yet dearer every 

moment than before 
She became, though we thought fondly 

heart could not love her more. 

"■ Then out spoke another angel, nobler, 

brighter than the rest, 
As with strong arms but tender, he 

caught her to his breast ; 
'Ye have made her all too lovely for a 

child of mortal race, 
But no shade of human sorrow shall 

darken o'er her face. 

" ' Ye have tuned to gladness only the 

accents of her tongue, 
And no wail of human anguish shall 

from her lips be wrung ; 

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" T/ie Little Children that are Gone." 






Nor shall the soul that shineth so purely 

from within 
Her form of earth-born frailty, ever 

know the taint of sin. 

*' ' Lulled in my faithful bosom, I will 
bear her far away. 

Where there is no sin nor anguish, nor 
sorrow, nor decay ; 

And mine a boon more glorious than all 
your gifts shall be — 

Lo ! I crown her happy spirit with im- 
mortality ! ' 

**Then on his breast our darling yielded 
up her gentle breath, 

For the stronger, brighter angel, who 
loved her best was Death." 
—Rev. Geo. W. Bethune, D.D. 

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SAFE WITH JESUS. 

A SAINTLY woman wrote to a be- 
reaved young mother: "Heaven has 
been opened to you as never before, and 
Jesus has come to you so near, that you 
have almost heard the tender voice ask- 
ing for your dearest treasure. And He 
knows the comfort it is to you that the 
darhng is safe with Him."— ANONY- 
MOUS. 

" The elder saints 
Seemed to my eyes a countless multi- 
tude ; 
But these cherubic babes outnumbered 

them, 
As the dark pine-trees of Siberia's wilds, 

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*' T/ie Little Children that are Gone!' 

Unfell'd, immeasurable forests, yield 
In numbers to the ferns and summer 

flowers 
Which grow beneath their shadowing 

boughs, 
And fringe their gnarled roots with 

beauty." 

—Rev. E. H. Bickersteth. 



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LITTLE PILGRIMS' SANDALS. 

" The way to Heaven is narrow, 
And its blessed entrance straight 
But how safe the little pilgrims 
Who get within the gate ! 



The sunbeams of the morning 
Make the narrow path so fair, 

And these early little pilgrims 
Find dewy blessings there. 

They pass o'er rugged mountains, 
But they climb them with a song; 

For these early little pilgrims 
Have sandals new and strong. 

They do not greatly tremble 

When the shadows night foretell, 

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The Little CJiildren that are Gone^ 

For these early little pilgrims 
Have tried the path so well. 

" They know it leads to Heaven 
With its bright and open gates, 
Where, for happy little pilgrims, 
A Saviour's welcome waits." 

— N. Y. Evangelist. 



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THE PARADISE BLOSSOM. 



" A SWEET baby head had forgotten 
hfe's way, 
Asleep on her pillow of roses ; 
Wee hands shutting close as if tired of 
day, 
Like buds which the spring-time dis« 
closes. 
But the beautiful form of my baby waa 
still. 
And over the lips of my blossom, 
The dimples lay soft, as the frost o'er 

the hill, 
When a spirit sang low to my spirit at 
will, 
* Christ carries your lamb in His 
bosom.' 



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T/ie Little CJiildrcn that are Gone. 



"■ There is never a lamb 

From life's sorrowful fold, 

But wanders in fields that are vernal, 

And never a babe shut away in the cold, 

But blooms in the spring-time eternal. 

When storms sweep the hills, 

And the night gathers cold, 

rU think of my Paradise blossom, 

And breathe the same song for the 

weary that weep. 
The weakest are safest ; far over the 

steep, 
Christ carries my lamb in His bosom." 
— Anonymous. 






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A QUESTION AND ANSWER. 



^ Who have the care of these little chil- 
dren who have gone to Heaven ; on 
earth they were never left alone a 
minute? — No; nor in Heaven. The an- 
gels that are holiest and dearest to God 
care for these little children, for 

Jesus said : 

" In Heaven their angels do always 
behold the face of my Father which is 
in Heaven." 

How dear these little children are to 

God then ! It has been said that their 

angels are within the inner circle, so 

near to Him that they can gaze upon 

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T/ie Little Children that are Gone.' 



His face, and know before He speaks 
what is His will concerning them. 

Mothers of angels, lift up your hearts. 
How blessed is the state of your little 
ones in Heaven ! 



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LIFTED over; 



" As tender mother, guiding baby steps, 
When places come at which the tiny feet 
Would trip, lift up the little ones in 

arms 
Of love, and set them down beyond the 

harm, 
So did our Father watch the precious 

boy 
Led o'er the stones by me, who stumbled 

oft 
Myself, but led my darling on. 
He saw the sweet limbs faltering, and 

saw 
Rough ways before us, where my arms 

would fail 

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The Little Children that are Goney 



So reached from Heaven, and, lifting the 

dear child, 
Who smiled in leaving me, He put him 

down 
Beyond all hurt, beyond my sight, and 

bade 
Him wait for me ! Shall I not, then, 

be glad. 
And, thanking God, press on to over- 



take?" 


" 




-Helen Hunt Jackson. 


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A HEAVENLY COUNTENANCE. 



The little Pilgrim had gone to Heaven. 
It was all so wonderful, and beautiful, 
and the people were so kind, and beau- 
tiful too. By and by she saw one com- 
ing towards her more lovely than all the 
others she had seen. 

" There was something in her face 
different from that of the others by 
which the little Pilgrim knew somehow, 
without knowing her, that she had come 
here as a child, and grown up in this 

celestial place Her countenance 

was full of a heavenly calm. It had 
never known passion nor anguish. Some- 
times there was in it a far-seeing look of 

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The Little Children that are GoneT 



vision, sometimes the simplicity of a 
child." — Mrs. Oliphant. 

If your little child is gone to God, 
think how lovely the home ! No cloud 
of sin, pride, or pain will ever cross that 
little face. 



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FOR SAD MOTHERS. 

" I KNOW not the way I am going, 

But well do I know my Guide ; 
With a childlike trust I give my hand, 

To the mighty Friend by my side. 
The only thing I say to Him 

As He takes it, is, ' Hold it fast, 
Suffer me not to lose my way, 

And bring me home at last.' " 

— Anonymous. 



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" What close and tender links should 
bind that mother's heart to Heaven who 
has among the ' hosts ' a little angel all 
her own ! " 

"The consciousness of those little 

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The Little Children that are Gone. 



down-stretching hands, of that pure 
down-reaching love, should be talis- 
mans of power to purify her heart and 
life and make them true and holy."— ~ 
Mary Ferguson 



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BABY. 

" Oh, why are your beautiful eyes so red, 

Fair Lady? 

They have taken my baby out of my bed, 

My baby ! 

Speak sooth, your babe has gone up to 

God, 

Fair Lady. 

His Httle feet, little feet were not shod, 

My baby. 

But the road that leads to the Heavenly 
Town 

Is all over clouds as soft as down. 

Fair Lady. 

The way of the clouds is long and dim, 

I would I were there to carry him. 

My baby. 
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The Little Children that are Gone. 



He will be holpen by cherubs bright, 
A fair new star for a lamp they light, 

Sweet Lady ! 
The way to the Heavenly Town is 

long, 
I would I could sing him a cradle-song, 

My baby. 
Our Lord stands waiting at Heaven's 

door. 
And Mary Mother runs on before. 

Sweet Lady. 
Oh, he will feel strange in that Heavenly 
street. 

My baby. 
But the happy Innocents he will meet. 

Fair Lady. 
For the comely food he will cry and gays, 

My baby. 
They will make him a feast in the Heav- 
enly Place, 
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** The Little Children that are Gone. 

Our Lord will be there to speak the 

grace, 
And Mary Mother, with godly gays, 

Fair Lady. 
The Heavenly Town will grow so dear. 
He will forget his mother here, 

My baby. 
He shall think of his mother in all the 

cheer. 
He shall not forget in a thousand year, 

Fair Lady." 
— From " LiLLiPUT Levee." 

** There are fathers and mothers who 
seem to see when they look up into the 
deep blue of Heaven, a dimpled hand 
that beckons to them, and a silver voice 
that whispers from the skies, ' Come up 
higher.' "— R. H. LUNDIF 

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SMILES FOR BABY'S SAKE. 

'' You ask me why I smile to-day, 

Though yesterday I wept, 
And though for weary weeks, as well. 

Grief's vigils I have kept. 
You point to that small grave that lies 

Beneath that old elm tree, 
And wonder what has dried the tears 

Which flowed so ceaselessly. 

^' Ah, friend, last night before I slept, 

The tears fell all too fast, 
Till weary nature fainted, and 

Sweet slumber came at last. 
Then came a dream. Methought I saw 

A garden fair and sweet, 
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The Little Children that are Com 

Where reigned a wondrous harmony 
And beauty all complete. 



''And flitting softly here and there, 

In robes of spotless white, 
A host of little ones I saw. 

All radiant and bright. 
And in each little hand they bore 

A lamp with glowing flame. 
Then, 'midst the shining angel throng, 

My own wee darling came. 

'' Within her dimpled, baby-hand 

A little lamp she bore ; 
But oh, dear friend, its light was dim 

And flickered o'er and o'er. 
And while I wondered grievingly, 

And wept anew with fears, 
One asked, 'Why burns thy light so 
low ? ' 

She answered ' Mamma's tears.' 

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' T/ic Little CJiildroi that are Goner 

^' Ah me ! to think that I should dim 

The light my baby bore ! 
I dried my tears, and prayed, ' Dear 
Lord, 

Help me to weep no more ! ' 
And now I smile for baby's sake ; 

And, though I did but dream, 
I love to think that baby's light. 

Bright as the rest will gleam." 

—Mary D. Brine. 



"A CHILD In Heaven is a glorious 
thought, and to look forward to meeting 
again is a high aspiration. It is but a 
little while — life is but a shadow that 
passes away, but eternity endures. 

" The love of God is a continual feast 

and is meant to be an almost rapture of 

delight." 

''Just as you are kind, not only to your 
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'' TJic Little Children that are Goner ^ 

friend, but to his children for his sake, 
so is God kind, not only to you, but to 
your children. It was perhaps the fruit 
and evidence of that kindness that the 
little one you mourn has been better 
provided for above, than you could have 
provided for him here. The Lord chose 
to have your child beside Himself. And 
you have done the same thing when 
your children were absent from home. 
You wearied for them; you brought 
them home again ; you must have them 
with you. The Saviour feels thus to- 
ward His absent children. ' Father, I 
will that they also whom Thou hast 
given me be with me where I am.' .... 
You will learn, ere long, to look on it as 
a high honor that your child has been 
sent for by the Heavenly King." — Rev, 

R. H. LUNDIE. 

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A CHILD'S DEATH. 

"TllOU bast honored my child by the 
speed of Thy choice, 

Thou hast crowned him with glory, 
o'erwhelmed him with mirth ; 

He sings up in Heaven with his sweet- 
sounding voice, 

While I, a saint's mother, am weeping 
on earth. 

" Yet, oh I for that voice which is thrill- 
ing thro' Heaven, 

One moment my ears with its music 
to slake ! 

Oh, no ! not for worlds would I have 
him regiven, 

Yet I long to have back what I would 

not retake." 

— Fred. W. Faber. 
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